


Venomous Dart

by Zombie_Food



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse), Resident Evil - All Media Types, Resident Evil: Resistance
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bathroom Sex, Blow Jobs, Choking, Clothed Sex, Cock Slut, Creampie, Deepthroating, Dirty Talk, Dry Humping, Face-Fucking, First Time Blow Jobs, M/M, Manhandling, Mildly Dubious Consent, Near-vomitting, Nerd/jocky, Poisoning, Praise Kink, Rimming, Rough Kissing, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Skull Fucking, This zombie maybe not so much, Valerie is the best wingman, in heat, lots of disruptions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-29
Updated: 2020-06-29
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:40:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24986209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zombie_Food/pseuds/Zombie_Food
Summary: When little efforts succeed in separating the tightly knitted team of survivors, the researchers try to instead attack their unity from within by infecting the strongest member. The adverse side effects of the venom send Samuel into a wave of heat and none other than his friend Martin has the pleasure of being the unfortunate peer forced to babysit him.
Relationships: Martin Sandwich/Samuel Jordan, Samuel Jordan/Martin Sandwich
Comments: 7
Kudos: 15





	Venomous Dart

**Author's Note:**

> SOS: I can't stop writing about this pairing. Send help.

The survivors journeyed further into the facility, their progression halted abruptly at yet another bolted metal door. Samuel and Tyrone inspected their weapons as Valerie and Martin (the brains of the team) analysed the pieces needed for their next puzzle. 

The sharp hiss of a needle shooting through the air from a mounted camera jolted the survivors into defense mode and January had only just began fumbling with her hacking device when the needle drove into the back of Samuel’s neck, barely dodging the white fabric of his hood. It landed with a quiet _splat_.

Before any further shots could be fired, January uttered; “The camera's disabled.”

Samuel pried the thin metal coil out of his neck with a wince as his peers scurried to his aid. He dropped it to the floor, rubbing the surface of the skin where it had injected him to cool the stinging that followed. When the others were inquiring unanimously if he was okay, he shrugged and reassured them.

“I’m fine. Just stings a little...”

Worried glances back and fourth between the group, before they reluctantly returned to figuring out what was required to progress further. Tyrone and Becca shared a mutual glance, before keeping a firm eye on him, cautious and alert of his every move. Samuel noticed and shrugged them off, reassuring them yet again in a more assertive tone.

“I’m _fine_. They’re gonna’ need a way bigger dose to take _me_ down.”

Before long, a loose description of the probable identity of the keys was explained to the team. Samuel blinked, confused, and Valerie brought him closer to the model device, crouching to give him a quick and more thorough description.

“This component here has a space for something with a small, circular base,” she rambled. As she spoke, Samuel’s eyes became half-lidded, his breathing slow (was he _that_ bored?) as she talked him through her thinking. She continued on to point out the other components it would pose the likeliness off, however as she reached across him to point it out for him, her wrist was grabbed firmly. The tightness of the grip made her gasp and snatch her hand away, her instincts screaming at her as she began analysing her peer worriedly. Sweat had began beading at his forehead and his face was slightly flushed as his eyes lingered on her bare wrist that she clutched to her chest.

“...Do you have a fever?” She asked, her voice small. Samuel seemed to scowl then, before standing up fully and stepping away from her.

When she, too, straightened herself up, her chest felt heavy when she realised no one had been looking their way to witness what had happened. Martin soon came bounding over, giving Samuel a playful punch on his shoulder.

“Don’t feel dumb if you still don’t get it. You’re with me, anyway.”

Martin chuckled, but it was cut short when Valerie shot him a warning glance. Samuel’s movements were slow, sluggish, as he went to collect his metal bat. When out of ear shot, Valerie began confiding with Martin.

“What groups are we separating into?”

“Twos. There’s three corridors and six of us. You’re with Tyrone.” Martin replied. He then added, in a more boastful tone; “Putting the brains with the brutes was _my_ idea.”

Valerie waved him off. “I think that dart did something to Samuel.”

Martin glanced across the room at the brute who was swinging his bat absent mindedly back and fourth, testing the weight in his arms. Then he placed the bat on his shoulder, wiping a small trail of sweat that was beginning to drip down his temple.

Martin shrugged nonchalantly. “He’s always like that.”

Valerie sighed, frustration making her tone more firm, desperate. “I don’t want this to be a case of the researchers targeting the unity of the team. You know, turning us on each other! We all need to stick together and they _know_ that.”

Martin was eyeing the point where his trainers were toeing at the floor boards as she spoke, contemplating. When she had finished, he nodded in acknowledgement, muttering; “We still need to unlock this door, though. I can handle myself...”

Valerie raised an eyebrow at him, unconvinced, and Martin threw his hands up in exasperation . “Let’s just find the keys and worry about it then. We can’t find all three parts when only searching half the area. Then we will just have more stuff to worry about with how much time we are wasting.”

Valerie began murmuring protests but the team had began to approach them and separating into the pairs they had discussed, silencing anything more she could have added. Samuel’s eyes were glaring like they were burning holes into her and she couldn’t help but worry he knew what she had been confiding in with Martin. In her last efforts before she ventured into her corridor with Tyrone, she called to no one in particular; “Be careful.”

Contrary to what Martin had been warned, Samuel seemed to have perked up as they moved into the rooms on their side of the area, bat held at the ready to defend themselves. Martin assumed the lack of response to his chatter was simply due to his concentration on moving forward. 

Soon they had quietly opened the door to a large public restroom. The sinks were rusted, dust settled on wilted floral decor and most cubicle doors barely hung onto their hinges. In the far corner of the room was a figure, body convulsing abnormally and blood oozing from its rotting lips. 

Martin shimmied himself against a wall, pointing; “Ooh, ooh, a zombie!”

Samuel slumped into the corner, exhaling hard. His bat was readied in front of him, but his eyes seemed foggy and preoccupied, lingering on Martin’s lower body. Out of habit, Martin glanced down at himself (assuming maybe something was _on_ him?) before looking Samuel up and down.

“You good?”

Samuel blinked hard, physically shaking his head to clear his mind before striding out of their hiding place to confront the zombie. The zombie’s limbs suddenly sparked to life as they reached towards him with its fingers curled into a clawing motion. Samuel swiftly sidestepped and swung his bat at its head.

As he let his body weight flow through the motion and drive home into its skull, the satisfying thud seemed to relieve some of the unbearable pressure that was squeezing his gut. He sighed at its sensation, his breath quickly catching in his throat when he realised the stirring in his nether regions. As Martin began bounding over, excited almost like a puppy, Samuel shielded himself away momentarily to pull at the fabric of his jeans around his crotch.

“Wow! Its head, like... _exploded_!” Martin buzzed in his ear, excitement making his voice almost shrill. Samuel smiled, grateful that this was a sufficient enough response for Martin to begin taking the lead. 

The overwhelming heat began to return and he palmed the sweat off his forehead, eyes unconsciously drifting over Martin’s narrow frame as he walked, over his thin, pale arms. The thought of how easy it would be to restrain those arms fleated through his mind. 

He hadn’t realised Martin had stopped walking and was speaking to him, voice getting louder the more he spoke. “Sam, did you hear me? Sam, stop!”

Samuel bumped clumsily into Martin’s back, sounding a quiet _oof_ from the smaller boy. The warmth of a body pressed onto his sent tingles through him, making him barely notice the scowl Martin threw over his shoulder.

“Are you trying to get us blown up? There’s a trap.”

Samuel mumbled his apologies, his body yearning for more contact as Martin pulled himself away and knelt cautiously to tinker with the trap. Seeing him on his knees so close by him made Samuel shift uncomfortably and turn himself away. He hoped Martin was too attentive to the wires of the device to notice him tucking his growing erection into the waistband of his boxers in an attempt to hide the growing tent it made in his trousers.

Martin sang a victory fanfare tune as he got to his feet. He mock ‘stepped' on the disarmed trap and mimicked a small explosion sound, chuckling. Samuel let out a weak chuckle too, pushing forward despite the clench and burn in his gut.

The door at the other end of the large restroom was locked, and Martin muttered; “I left my spare battering ram in my other pants.”

He half-smiled at his own joke, half expecting Samuel to do the same but he had instead propped himself tiredly against the wall beside the door, eyeing him intensely. Martin cast his eyes away, puzzled, before attempting to ram the door in. 

After the third attempt, Martin let out a cry and clutched his painful shoulder. “Give me a second,” he said, throwing himself into the wood again, unsuccessfully. “...Or more.”

The energy and motivation to drive forward seemed to have completely escaped Samuel as he watched Martin muster all his strength into each thrust of his shoulder. The panting and grunting from the effort of ramming the door was music to Samuel’s ears and he bit his bottom lip as he watched his feeble attempts to seemingly prove something. 

Eventually Martin turned his back to the door and slumped against it, defeated. Samuel’s eyes trained on the rise and fall of his chest behind the thin fabric of his white top, at the glisten of perspiration beginning at the dip of his neck. It was only when his clear blue, oblivious eyes drifted to meet his that Samuel felt his arousal throb painfully against the elastic of his pants. 

“What, is Mr. Hulk on vacation today?” Martin panted, and began muttering about how he was being the brains _and_ the brute at this point, but the sentence was cut off abruptly when Samuel’s body thrust him up against the door with a sudden burst of energy. Martin’s legs were raised off the tiled floor, pinning him alift against the door by the firm pressure of Samuel’s body.

Martin panicked momentarily, at first thinking he had angered the brute somehow. He opened his mouth to question it, but again he was cut off when Samuel’s lips covered his hungrily, sucking and tonguing the space in his mouth desperately and passionately. 

The sudden raising of his heart beat made Martin breathless fast and he turned his face sideways to break the kiss and gasp for air. The onslaught didn’t stop there though and Samuel’s mouth was biting and sucking his newly exposed neck and marking the pale skin there. 

Martin tried to organised his frazzled thoughts as Samuel ground his hips hard into the space between their clothed thighs. Martin chuckled weakly, mind still reeling and trying to keep up.

“Is that a spare battering ram or are you just happy to see me...?” he muttered, sarcastically.

Samuel groaned deeply into his neck in response, nuzzling there as he drove his hips in more purposefully, harder and firmer. Martin felt the slightest peep of a moan escape his throat as his own cock began to stir inevitably at Samuel’s ministrations. He could feel Samuel’s arousal between their clothes, hard as a rock and pulsing as it sought friction against his inner thigh. 

They stayed like that for what seemed like a while, dry humping frantically and desperately against the door like a couple of horny teenagers. Soon, Martin began gritting his teeth, limbs squirming uncomfortably around Samuel’s body.

“Sam... D-do you wanna’ maybe take our clothes off now?”

Samuel’s blood rushed hard south in his veins at the suggestion, _he wants it_ , and he pried his body away, letting Martin scramble and lose his footing when his legs bucked from under him. Samuel encouraged him to drop further as opposed to helping him to his feet, teeth biting hard into his bottom lip as he pushed the top of Martin’s head downwards to level with where his cock strained against his pants.

Martin blinked a couple of times to process, quickly realising how Samuel wanted to go about this. As soon as his thin fingers began fumbling with the metal buckle of his thick black belt, Samuel growled animalistically, cussing between murmurs of encouragement. 

A large wet patch of precum darkened the fabric where the head of Samuel’s arousal was pressed hard against his boxers. Martin frowned and mumbled, “That dart really got you good, huh?”

Samuel’s hips were already bucking in impatience, flesh visibly throbbing. He nodded, eyes desperate and lustful, praying he would just hurry up and swallow it down the back of his throat already.

Martin hummed and smiled (was he _taunting_ him?), and suddenly his lips wrapped around the white patch of fabric outlining the head, sucking. Samuel’s eyes rolled back into his head and he groaned, wanting to do and feel so much more that it pained him.

Martin reeled back and scrunched his nose at Samuel’s salty taste. Samuel clenched his jaw in frustration, reaching to pull his underwear down his thighs and letting his cock finally spring free.

Martin cooed a quiet _Woah!_ as it stood to full attention in front of him, lolling to the side from the sheer weight of the muscle. Precum had already began to ooze a thin trickle that barely dodged his lap before pooling on the off-white tiles below them. It stood so erect that Martin had no foreskin left to peel back as he slowly began to lap at the small slit of the head. Samuel hissed through clenched teeth, cock nudging hard into the rough buds of his tongue to demand further entrance to his mouth.

And then Martin’s eyebrows furrowed with the strain of relaxing his jaw to let as much of Samuel’s size in as he could. The sight alone sent Samuel’s pupils swallowing his irises like a black hole, his hands lacing into Martin’s long, black curls and squeezing his scalp in bliss. He felt more than heard Martin wince around his cock and he jutted his hips sharply to force more of his dick into the back of his throat. 

Martin recoiled and spluttered, but Samuel’s grip on his head quickly brought him back to work, forcing it into the slick smoothness of the insides of his cheeks before he had properly caught his breath. His hips seemed to move on their own, thrusting hard and fast as deep as his jaw would let him, the chokes and gags only elevating the sensation as the muscles of his throat spasmed around the flesh inside. 

Despite the harsh jabs to his throat, Martin seemed to reluctantly get the hang of it and was soon gasping quickly between a handful of thrusts before Samuel had brought him back to skull fuck him further. Martin’s hands had loosely wrapped around his thighs, clenching instinctively on occasion when his gag reflex overwhelmed him too much and he struggled to breathe.

After a particularly hard and deep thrust, Martin squirmed to break free but Samuel held him there, to the very pits of his throat that stretched the skin around his neck. Samuel groaned as Martin’s fingers raked at his thighs until Martin calmed himself, more compliant. Samuel wrapped a hand around his neck, around his _own_ length lodged inside and pressed against it with his fingertips. Tears were falling freely down Martin’s cheeks now, and his desperate breathing through his nostrils sent a drizzle of snot shooting from his nose. 

Finally, Samuel released him and Martin’s head hit the wooden door behind him with the force of him pulling his head back. He gagged and spluttered, his chin covered lewdly in saliva that dribbled onto his jeans below him. The strong acidic taste of bile burned its way up his neck and into his mouth, sending him on the verge of vomiting.

Samuel’s strong fingers latched onto his skull again and Martin cried out, voice raspy and broken. “Sam, stop! I can’t take anymore...”

Samuel shifted his weight between his feet, agitated as he watched Martin wipe his face clean on a corner of his blue short sleeved overshirt. The sight of the thick bulge still raised in Martin’s lap made Samuel grasp him loosely under his armpits and forcibly raise him to his feet. He helped steady him this time when his footing scrambled with difficulty to catch his weight. 

Martin gazed up at him under eyelashes that were clustered together with tears and he was still sniffling from a runny nose. 

“...What?” he finally mumbled, feeling embarrassed under the intensity of his starring. Samuel gripped him by the shoulders, escorting him to the countertops by the old, rusted sinks. Martin yelped in surprise when his butt bounced on the counter edge, but the yelp became muffled on its way out when Samuel’s lips were on his again. The yelp finished in a pleasant, satisfied hum that vibrated Samuel’s bottom lip. He could taste himself in Martin’s mouth, right before the tinge of sulfuric acid overwhelmed it. 

He parted away, ignoring the thin string of spittle that still connected them as he hastily undid Martin’s zipper. Martin was murmuring something repeatedly, _hurry up_ , and had propped his bottom so that he was seated on the counter, knocking off loosely stacked toiletries obliviously. Samuel was quick to tugging his pants and jeans off in one go. As he did, Martin was stripping off his top and blue overshirt, discarding it with the toiletries that were scattered all over the floor.

Samuel snatched up his lips again, but only for a moment. A surprised grunt escaped Martin when he was swept off the counter and swiftly spun around, hunched over the countertop with Samuel already getting to his knees behind him. Martin gazed over his shoulder, curious and excited, before his eyes drifted forward to a hazy and scuffed mirror cast over the sink. The glimpse of his sweaty naked body, eager for attention, staring back at him made redness flush across his cheeks and he moved to rest his head over his forearms instead.

Strong fingers had clenched the flesh of his ass cheeks firmly before separating them. The sudden sensation of a tongue licking the space between his balls and hole made him flinch and his legs shudder. 

“Woah... Okay...” he mumbled, still adjusting to how quickly this was unfolding. He spread his legs further apart, feet steady and firmly set on the ground in an attempt to keep still. He was rewarded soon after, the slick tongue lapping and loosely penetrating his ass.

A louder moan ripped from him and it wasn’t long before Martin’s toes were curling against the tiles. He began to rock backwards into the wet appendage, desperate, pleading under his breath. Samuel must have heard him because there was the sudden intrusion of two fingers.

The sting of stretching made Martin suck his bottom lip into his mouth, feeling the soft skin there swell and tingle. He hazarded another glance over his shoulder, arousal twitching when he saw Samuel was impatiently jerking himself off as he finger fucked him. 

Samuel caught his eyes and, _God_ , if they weren’t doing what they were doing, Martin would have thought he were angry. Martin looked forward to avoid the intensity of his gaze, but Samuel had got up from behind him and was pressing his body against his, using the mirror to maintain eye contact as he did so.

“Want me to fuck you...?” he murmured into his ear, before squeezing a lobe between his teeth. Martin mewled, rocking impatiently against his body, arching his back so much so that his shoulder blades stood out against his flesh. Samuel’s fingertips stroked down the dip of his spine tenderly, following it all the way down to his crack before the contrasting hard slap of his ass sent Martin reeling into the counter.

“Oh fuck, yes...” the words left him in a flurry, knees wobbling when he felt Samuel’s hardness poking and pressing against him from behind. Samuel’s hand reached up into Martin’s hair again, lacing with the dark locks before tugging them backwards. Martin was forced to come face to face with his reflection, his eyes never leaving Samuel’s who watched him intently in the mirror. 

When Martin’s lip quivered and his sweaty palms reached back to gently hug his waist closer, Samuel growled, a deep rumble that erupted from his gut. He was so lost in his lustful haze that, when Martin began to mutter something repeatedly, he could barely match the sounds to words. 

He was already gliding his swollen member against the space between his cheeks when he realised Martin wasn’t whining anymore, but was speaking in a hushed, panicked voice. Martin’s hands were beating his hips weakly, eyes wide and alert as they darted around them. The lust had cleared from his voice, despite the heavy rasp from the soreness in his throat.

“ _No, no_ , Sam. I can hear someone coming...!”

Samuel halted his movements then, straining his ears against the silence that followed, despite the way his member throbbed painfully from the disruption. Surely enough, the quiet footfall of feet was echoing down the corridor they had come from. Samuel glanced around him; at their reflection and at the mess around them, before he pried himself off of Martin’s smaller body and hastily gathered the clothes they had carelessly thrown around them. 

Martin had turned to face him, breathing coming quick. His hands were moved to cover his raging erection, but Samuel had already snatched one away and was pulling him to one of the run down cubicles. 

Martin’s mouth dropped open in disbelief by the time they stood in front of the flimsy door, Samuel holding his arm out in mock welcome. 

“You can’t be serious...”

Any further discussion was halted as Martin was abruptly shoved inside and the door slammed shut behind them. The broken metal lock jingled loosely before wobbling off its final screw. Martin began to protest, but Samuel hushed him until there was a dull thud of a hand hitting the door to the bathroom.

They waited. Another thud. Then another. Whatever it was, it was struggling to open the door. 

Martin sighed beside him. Relief? Frustration? Samuel wasn’t too sure.

“It’s just a zombie.” 

Samuel exhaled slowly, letting the clothes he had gathered fall at his feet. When he turned around, Martin was huddled awkwardly beside an old, broken toilet, practically bouncing with impatience. It was much darker in the small space of the stall, however Samuel could still just about make out the dilated pupils and sweat that was beginning to glisten off his body. Samuel began to completely remove his own trousers and, when Martin saw him doing so, he quickly moved to help him with his red letterman jacket by tugging it impatiently off his shoulders.

As soon as the material fell to the floor, Samuel’s arms were around Martin again, the lustful venom running through his veins making him thrust the smaller boy up into the cubicle door effortlessly. A barely audible squeak escaped Martin when the force knocked the wind from his lungs and Samuel was licking and biting at his lip before he could regain his breath.

The loud thud and creak of rusty hinges announced the entrance of the zombie into the restroom, mere metres away from the cubicle the boys shared. Martin’s eyes shot open and he began mumbling protests into the kiss. 

“ _Shh_.” Samuel responded, before he pressed him further up the cubicle door, lifting his thighs so that his body encased perfectly in his. Then Martin lifted his legs even higher and Samuel bit his lip blissfully at his flexibility allowing him to bend so that his ankles were either side of Samuel’s head, ass perfectly lined up for his dripping arousal. 

“You’re **so** good.” Samuel whispered, and Martin’s hands wrapped loosely around his neck in response, the praise making his hips tremble impatienly. He was panting heavily in Samuel’s face, eyes clouded and practically begging.

He wasted no time pressing his hips forward and driving his dick into his stretched hole. He was expecting the shrill gasp that erupted from Martin as a result, so he silenced it with his lips once more. The muffled noise that escaped made a deathly groan sound outside their cubicle and a slow, irregular thud of feet paced closer towards them.

Samuel pulled out and drove his hips forward again, harder. By now he was so desperate for release that he was already beginning to set a brisk, hard pace for Martin to adjust to. As it set in motion and Martin’s frail body was sent ramming into the wood behind him, Samuel hoped that the doorframe wasn’t so ancient that it couldn’t support their movements. 

When his member throbbed in bliss at the pleasure it so direly sought, Samuel began sucking at the inviting skin of Martin’s collarbone, not once slowing his fast pace. A muted moan sounded from Martin in response, who quickly pressed the back of his hand over his mouth. The speed was clearly getting to him, and he was already palming at his erection with his other hand. 

Samuel became dimly aware that Martin was trying to speak behind the flesh of his hand but he could barely make out anything aside from the desperate _mmph!_ sounds he was making. When Samuel simply continued his ministrations; hard, fast; Martin finally whipped his hand away.

“S-slow down! I’m gonna’--....”

The remark only made Samuel’s blood sizzle and his cock swell thickly as it jutted into him harder, hips driven with adrenaline and power. The cubicle door finally began to strain and jolt back and fourth from the force, making Samuel momentarily readjust his weight to a seemingly more sturdy part of the doorframe. 

  
Martin’s hips were shaking, toes scrunching up on either side of Samuel’s face from the pleasure stimulating through his body. By now the zombie knew quite evidently which cubicle door they were stationed behind and was loosely beating on the other side. This seemed to distract Samuel momentarily, and he slowed his pace, eyes darting around in uncertainty before Martin’s desperate, broken voice ripped the air.

“ _No, no_ don’t stop!!”

This was all the affirmation Samuel needed. He braced Martin’s hips firm against the wood, piling the force of his thrusts into him, each in immediate succession of another. Martin’s blue eyes rolled back and his thighs tensed where they were sandwiched against his stomach, his cock spurting in the tight space between there. Samuel groaned, the lewd sight of Martin’s body spent and twitching uncontrollably from overstimulation finally feeding the drive that had possessed him all this time enough to shoot a large, thick load deep in the warmth of Martin’s spasming hole.

  
The sensation of finally finding release after the overwhelming effects of the venom dart made Samuel’s legs begin to buck from under him, and he staggered in an attempt to keep Martin alift, who seemed barely conscious in his arms. He eventually stumbled backwards onto the old toilet, letting Martin slump in his lap with his head lulled weakly on his chest. Already the sheer amount he had filled Martin’s hole was oozing out around his cock and into the toilet. He took a small, steadying breath to calm himself, but it became trapped midway when he saw the door sway open slightly after another pound from the rotting hand behind it.

Samuel’s heart had no time to slow down and allow his muscles to rest. In his best efforts, he stretched his leg out from under Martin and thrust his foot up against the door. The groans on the other side were becoming more desperate and frustrated, accenting each of the punches. He hoped that was enough to hold it since Martin now appeared blissfully unaware of its presence as he dozed on him. 

All seemed relatively calm for the moment, and Samuel could finally bask in the aftermath of his orgasm, enjoying the pleasant feeling of a warm, wet heaviness over his body. He raised a hand over Martin’s head and began to gently run it over his soft dark hair, feeling the slight vibration of Martin humming softly into the touch.

"Sorry..." Samuel whispered into the silence.

A weak chuckle in response. "It's okay. I liked it."

An abrupt collapse of a body outside the stall. Samuel snatched his foot away when the zombie’s greyed, bloodied hand appeared from the small gap under the door, grasping and clawing at the air. Then it began to shimmy more of itself further inside.

Samuel’s body tense under Martin, and he began to nudge him hard enough that his head jolted to the side.

“Uh, Martin, um--"

The sudden heavy collision of a large object sent the contents of the zombie’s head splatting in all directions, including under the door. Samuel flinched and Martin cowered further into him like a startled rabbit, droplets of blood now specking his lower back. 

“Jesus. Watch out for any more zombies, guys.” Came Tyrone's voice, just a few feet from them. Then the many more footfalls of two, three, _four_ other people passing by, a couple commenting grimly at the mess of the zombie’s brains on the floor. Martin glanced with wide, startled eyes back and fourth between the door and Samuel, who was sat deadly still as though it would somehow help them disappear. 

The steps began to recede until there was just the quite shuffle of someone lingering further behind the group. 

“I’m really worried; I hope they’re safe...” 

The undeniable soft trill was easy to identify as Valerie’s. Martin was beginning to reach for his clothes frantically, but Samuel stopped him, holding a finger to his lips. 

That is, until he heard cubicle doors opening beside them. 

Not making sound suddenly seemed to be the least of their priorities as they hurriedly snatched jackets and trousers up from around them. The wetness between their tummies was already beginning to drip down as they desperately rearranged themselves in what little time they had.

The wide step over the gory mess and gentle cock of a pistol was all the warning they had before the door drew open, dauntingly slow as the boys prepared themselves for the inevitable.

Valerie stared, wide eyed, at them as her cheeks darkened to a deep crimson. The boys stared back at her, clothing loosely clutched over their dignities. 

Martin weakly chuckled, quiet and empty of emotion. “Surprise...!” In the same beat, Samuel had quickly uttered; “I can explain.”

Silence. More staring. Valerie cast her eyes down where their bodies were huddled together, around the mess they had made before drawing back up to reluctantly meet their gaze.

“Hey, Val.” Came January's voice, further ahead. “What is it?”

A long moment passed. It appeared to take physical effort to tear her eyes away from the scene. Then, her hand darted to the pocket of her pale yellow hoodie, withdrawing a small knife.

“I-I found a knife in one of the bathroom stalls!” she called, pacing towards the other voice as the door slowly closed behind her.

“Sweet... Nice find.”

Samuel let out a long breath that he hadn't realised he had been holding. Beside him, Martin’s body slumped, utterly exhausted. 

"Oh, thank Apollo."


End file.
